


Everybody Gets High

by IsaiahVirus



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Drugs, First Kiss, M/M, Self-Harm, Substance Abuse, is he 17? is he 23? its up to you!, it amounts to, peter is of an indeterminate age to appeal to everyone, wooo boi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 01:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15280125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsaiahVirus/pseuds/IsaiahVirus
Summary: Peter floats between parties strung out. What happens when he posts a snap to everyone instead of just his party crew? Starker, that's whatYour garbage boy is back with his angst because he can't finish a fic for his life rip





	Everybody Gets High

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn't even call this fanfiction for marvel, this is a love letter to the song Everybody Gets High by MISSIO tbh. so put that on repeat while you listen because thats the mood

Peter Parker stumbled down the front steps into a driveway and onto the sidewalk beyond that. He was two fifths gone and had a third fifth in his hand. Earlier someone had started passing out pills of nebulous origin and Peter had taken three. It didn’t feel like enough at the time and he was right. They had worn off too fast. He took a sip and tried to pull his phone out of his jacket only to trip over his own feet. A normal human wouldn't be able to stand but he was no ordinary human and his drinking ability was legendary in the New York party circuit. 

He tried again for his phone, he had no idea where he was and he was not in a good enough mind to navigate himself home. And he really should head home since it was a school night and he had class in a few hours. If it had been the weekend he would have passed out on the floor. 

He fumbled his phone out of his pocket but couldn’t seem to find the map app so he stuffed his phone back into his pocket and headed towards the glow of the city hoping he’d find a familiar street. It wasn’t that late but the sun had been down for seven hours already and the February nights weren’t unforgiving but they weren’t kind. Dressed in jeans and a long sleeve shirt and hoodie under a jacket was almost enough and Peter had half a mind to hail a cab but he didn’t want to give up just yet. 

He flipped his hood up, curls peaking out, took a pull from the bottle, and kept walking.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket with his free hand and set one between his lips then shoved the pack back in his pocket to hunt down the lighter in his front pocket. He managed to not fall over or dump his gin out as he flicked the lighter and lit his cigarette, hoping to warm himself from the inside. It didn’t really work but it cleared his head. He smoked as he walked and eventually threw the butt in a snowbank. 

He was coming up on a park and he saw a little playground. With swings! The joy of slinging around with none of the danger. He crossed the field to the playground and made a little cup holder out of filthy snow to his right and put his drink down in it to swing. Peter sat on a swing and pushed off the ground a little, testing his head. There were no dire repercussions so he kept doing it. When the momentum from the last push dissipated into wind resistance and gravity, Peter lit another cigarette.

He sat there chain smoking until he was was four cigarettes away from empty and if his eyes didn’t deceive him, about 2 am. He still had no idea where he was or how to get home. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket only to discover a little baggie with what looked like some Xan bars, delightful. He downed two with a wash of gin. 

Holy fuck there was no way he was going to find his own way home.  _ Better snapchat about it lmao  _ Peter thought to himself. He was able to find and open snapchat, despite his previous difficulties with the map. “Heyyy wassssup I’m at this park in the fuck middle of who knows where lmao got fuckt up at Lucy’s earlier so shoutout to her for being dope.” He posted that to his story and lit another cigarette. The Xans were starting to kick in when he got a call from one Tony Stark. Peter stared at his phone, “What.” It rang twice more before his brain registered that he should pick up. “Hiii Mr. Stark. Why are you up so late?”  _ Nailed it _ , thought Peter.

“Kid, what are you doing right now?”

“Nothing much, how bout you?”

“Right. Where are you?” While Peter figured out if he should lie the moment stretched on and Peter didn’t answer. “Kid?”

Too late for lying, “I’m at the park.”

“Peter its two am why are you at the park?”

“Dunno. Swinging, I guess.”

Peter could hear Tony having Friday track his location before coming back to say, “Right, I’m coming to get you then we’re having a nice chat about why you're at the park and that, what was it? snap you posted.”

_ What? How does Mr. Stark know about his party sna-oh no.  _ The only explanation was that he posted it to his main story. “Yeah that’s cool Mr. Stark but I’mma have to call you back.”

“What?”

“Yeah these Xans are really kicking in. See you later man.”And he hung up.  _ Nailed it. _

He reopened snap and took the snap off his main.  _ Fuckin rip.  _ Peter pushed his phone into his hoodie pocket and smoked another cigarette. Maybe it was half an hour or ten minutes, like Peter’s phone said but he had a sneaking suspicion his phone was lying about the time, when Peter saw headlights appear in the small parking lot a hundred feet from the playground. The quiet purr of the engine cut.  _ Audi, _ Peter noted idly,  _ such a pretty engine. _ He barely registered it when Tony was in front of him, “Heyyy Mr. Stark. Fancy seeing you here.”

Tony was looking at his snow cup holder and he crouched down to lift the bottle up. “Gin kid? Really?”

“S’nothing wrong with gin.” Peter’s head lolled against his right hand which was gripping the chain link of the swing. Tony put the bottle back down. 

Tony let the tension out of his neck with something that tasted like disappointment. “You remember when I told you I wanted you to be better?” Peter made a vague noise of acknowledgement, thoughts dragging their feet across his mind and memories even more sluggish. “I didn’t just mean I wanted you to be a better hero. I didn’t want you to be me.”

“S’not really your fault Mr. Stark. I’ve always kind of been like this. Gotta have something to dial it back from 11 sometimes.” They sat in silence, Tony thinking about how completely he’s failed Peter and Peter thinking of nothing at all, just enjoying the high, or more accurately the low. 

“You can’t keep doing this, kiddo.”

“Why? I’ve been doing this for years and I’m just fine. Don’t be a hypocrite, holy shit.” Peter wiggled his pack out of his hoodie pocket with his now free right hand, took a cig and put his pack away. He fished out his lighter with his other hand. As he went to light his cigarette Tony caught his left wrist before he could catch a flame. Peter looked at him and held eye contact, before putting the cigarette to his lips and leaning in to the flame and inhaling. He held the smoke as long as he held eye contact before tilting his head to the sky and exhaling. The lighter flicked off. Peter’s attention fell back to Tony who was still focused on the lighter, crouched beneath him, looking strangely beautiful in the crisp and light polluted night. Broken and graying at the temples. Some kind of angel maybe. 

Peter took another drag, pulled the cig from his lips and leaned down, about to make some kind of decision. Using the hand with the cigarette since Tony still had his left, he tilted Tony’s chin up, the filter brushing his jaw and forced the eye contact. He leaned down slowly, but everything was happening slowly for him, and kissed him. Maybe at one point it would have been a hesitant brush of lips, but that Peter died a long time ago. He bit down hard and whispered  _ breathe _ before sealing their lips together and exhaling. 

He pulled back and took another drag, ashed. Tony was frozen in place.

Peter finished his cigarette and threw it somewhere to his right. He reached for the bottle, the movement woke Tony from his paralysis. “Let me take you home ok?”

Peter nodded. He stood up, gripped the hand that was holding his and pulled Tony up too. He stuffed his lighter back in his pocket. He went to grab the bottle but Tony gave him some type of look, “It’s perfectly good gin, Mr. Stark.” Tony looked to the moon for answers before making a vague motion towards the car. Peter grabbed the bottle and they left. 

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about this at me on tumblr if thats what youre into @potentialproblem01  
> hope you liked todays garbage


End file.
